Finished Folds (401—420)
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4at Buscemi’s mouthful of crooked teeth. “I can do nothing about his looks,” the plastic surgeon resignedly said, “until he sees someone about those choppers. Call an oral surgeon!"
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5The rhesus monkey was pissed but confused: How in hell did George know the monkey-ese word for ossicones? Never mind, I must free myself from this half-assed science project!
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5. “Awww, that’s no way to play!” cooed Catwoman sexily. Robin stopped hitting her. “That’s better. Come here, Robin. When I get done with you, Boy Wonder, you’ll be a MAN Wonder!"
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7He went back, but the staff had already broken the buffet down, what with the ship sinking and all. As my lifeboat lowered, he stood forlornly on the deck, plate and fork in hand.
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2“Naaah, that ain’t no dead body!” said another staffer. “Wanna bet?” said the e-cig guy. “I’ll give him the old Coochie-Coochie-Coo test!” Mr. e-cig then pulled a feather from his
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3He shook his head at how lousy the tribute to his songs was. Then it dawned on Simon: Art Garfunkel must be behind this. Afro-headed bastard just couldn’t let bygones be bygones!
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3and tear his clothing with my claws, hoping he has more Snickers bars in his pockets? In the end, the Bengal tiger went for the Snickers bar he could see, letting Arnold get away.
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5out of dead Al’s torso. The surgeon turned the on/off/vol wheel & it fired up right away. “Those radios were built to last,” said the anesthetist, who tapped his foot to the music.
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4uncomfortably on my feet because, on the contrary, I thought the tune was lousy. However, I wasn’t about to say that to the apparition and piss her off. “Oh, yes,” I lied, “it’s a
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5tutu over his flight suit. No, Lindbergh needed something more to get laughs from the Parisians. So he flew the Spirit of St. Louis thru Paris trailing a SURRENDER DOROTHY banner.
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4longed to use their tomatoes & rotten lettuce. The stage manager knew it was time & lit the “THROW” sign. Suddenly Little Miss Sunshine was pelted by a huge load of produce & eggs.
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2sugarplums didn’t dance in their heads as they fretted about not eating for 2 weeks. The plumbers longed for a time when water was not as clean and yummy plankton thrived. But then
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6stopped shaving its legs and underarms and flatulence is outlawed as being politically incorrect. When that time comes I hope I’m dead--I really enjoy shaving my legs and farting.
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4pupils’ parents, making Excitement. Science would be taught, making Experiment. Dogs & cats would run freely in my planet’s classrooms, making Excrement. These would be the 3 E’s.
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3was unlimited mini-golf at a variety of specialty courses. The country’s brochures promised it. Upon exiting the train, Bryna sought asylum at the 1st mini-golf course she found.
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4the cops reacted quickly to protect their donuts. She darted suddenly for the box, but the cops, nightsticks out, clubbed her repeatedly until she fell back, beaten and donut-less.
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5top floor of the barn. There I was: stuck in the floor, arms at my sides. The Bum of the Hayloft minded my intrusion and had powered up his lightweight McCulloch chainsaw, eager to
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2with no operating hand. “Maybe Yogi stole too many pic-a-nic baskets & is being scolded,” said Dog Puppet. Cat Puppet rebuked him: “Puppets don’t steal pic-a-nic baskets, stupid!"
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5with letters and numbers. The combination 9-1-1 looked especially threatening, like you should think twice before dialing it. Braving the scorpion buttons, Dr. Sardonicus dialed
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4Mary Ann’s hut and burst in. Startled, she spun around to face him—topless! “Gilligan! What are you doing?” He approached with a leer, making squeezing gestures with his fingers.